Previously on "Rosewood"...
For a guy who needs a kidney transplant,
you're going kind of hard.
- You taking my pulse? - I just got to make sure.
Too busy playing cop. That's why nobody trusts you.
Does that include you?
What you're doing for Rosie, that makes you family.
I'm not getting a pulse.
- Stand by! - Charging.
Clear!
There's been a complication.
Miss D.
What's wrong?
Clear.
Good morning, Mayor. Beautiful day.
- Hey, how you doing, Phillip? - We'll see you later.
News and weather...
Never been one for timing, have you, Millie?
He'll pull through.
Slade survived the foster-care system,
a hostage situation, his heart stopped on the operating table.
I wouldn't count on this new infection to take him down.
He forced Rosie to take his kidney.
- Now he's the sick one. - I know.
I wish I knew he was that selfless.
I would have asked him for a raise.
Breakfast of champions!
Steel-cut oatmeal with chia seeds and almond butter.
Perfect for keeping the muscles loose and spirits lifted.
I'm surprised you're on your feet
after stepping on so many toes.
The nurses told me you won't stop giving them advice.
Dr. Zeldin had to block your calls.
Well, Villa, I'm just an expert
offering his incredibly, incredibly valuable opinion.
- He's the chief of surgery. - And you have a lab to run.
Well, who says I can't do both?
Well, can you? I just saw a spasm in your right eye.
You're sweating through your shirt, even though it's 60 degrees in here,
and the double shot of Rosieness you're sipping
tells me you're overcompensating for how you actually feel.
Really? Y-You're doing my thing to me? That what you're doing?
Have you been sleeping here, Rosie?
I mean, it's only four weeks since your surgery.
You're still healing.
I wouldn't put myself at risk like that.
Rose-man, we got you some fresh clothes for your overnight bag.
Forgot the socks, though.
- That's on me. - Yeah, see?
Mitchie is perfectly capable of handling the lab
while I see to Slade's recovery, and Pippy and TMI...
I can't keep lying to Mom. She's starting to suspect.
I might have told her that you're getting man-groomed
with the head lather and the beard trim and mani-pedi.
Manscaping.
Oh.
Amy?
It's been a while.
What?
Orson Delmar, 33 years old.
Youngest-ever mayor of Marshwood...
and, uh, valedictorian of his high school,
weirdly good painter of people... and bears.
We just got lunch a few weeks ago.
And what happened when you met?
Uh, we ate, talked.
So, yeah, I hadn't seen him in years.
Was he the summer fling you told me about?
Clearly no judgment.
He was my first boyfriend.
'Cause my parents owned a place in Marshwood,
or... okay, an estate.
And I just kind of spent all my summers growing up there.
Why didn't you tell me the whole story?
What happened?
I just didn't think it mattered.
'Cause we haven't seen him since my parents sold their place,
and that was after I left for college.
And so we just kind of, you know, lost touch.
Tee, if you're not comfortable being involved with this case...
No, I'm good.
I'm good.
Um, the sheriff in Marshwood... Amy... she's my friend.
She mentioned that when we spoke.
They don't have the resources to conduct a full autopsy.
Yeah, and she said some things weren't adding up about Orson's death.
And, uh, she didn't want anyone in Marshwood
to find out about it
until she could prove it.
And that's where we coming.
Uh, continue prepping the body.
Mitchie, run a CT scan.
Yeah
Wow. You're still here. I'm shocked.
Shouldn't you be halfway to Marshwood by now?
And shouldn't you be at EMPD by now?
No, I took some vacation days,
because I had a feeling
that I needed to take someone out of Miami
before Slade's doctors file a restraining order.
Hmm. You sure you're not trying to take yourself out of Miami,
maybe a little bro-cation?
That's a vacation from your brother.
You know what? Marcos and I are fine.
Oh, "fine." You know,
there's that four-letter word that never means any good.
I mean, prepackaged meals are fine, bottled water is fine.
- Sweetheart candies are... - Fine!
I may have realized that
the best way for me to help Marcos is to just get out of his way.
You okay? That didn't sound like you.
But I'm also taking you to Marshwood
to make sure you don't overdo it.
Okay? You have at least four more weeks until you're 100%.
Okay, look, okay, a Rosewood at even 50%
is a normal person at 110%, so don't worry about me.
You're the one with no jurisdiction.
You're the one who was only recently cleared to drive.
So what are you trying to say?
So, I'm coming with you,
'cause Marshwood is different than Miami.
You're gonna need me.
Rosie, we're only gone a few days.
Did you really need to bring five bags?
Villa, we're going to the country.
You have to be prepared for everything, okay?
H-He's not wrong, 'cause from personal experience,
dressing for a cakewalk... it... it's no cakewalk.
Rosie, you missed the turn. The interstate's that way.
Got to make a quick pit stop.
I'm not sure what the wireless situation is like,
but if you can call me with any updates...
and I'm not talking every minute.
Maybe... maybe every five minutes you could...?
Okay, how 'bout if I just phone you, uh...
if his situation changes.
Okay, that works. That works, too.
And, also, I talked the nurses into
letting you use their on-call nap room.
That way, you don't have to leave here.
- So... So when he gets up... - That's not gonna happen.
Honestly, Rosie, if you want to do right by Slade,
just take care of the kidney he gave you.
Okay, I'll keep you in the know.
I promise.
Promise?
Promise.
- All right? - All right, all right.
- Appreciate you, man. Thanks. - Yeah.
Wow. It looks exactly the same.
Oh! Sweetie's Creamery!
That's where Orson and I used to get soft serve.
Oh, my God! That's where we had our first... um...
...movie.
- I got it. - You got it?
I'll get better at that.
Tara.
- Hi. - Been a while.
Oh, come here.
Now, that's a proper hello.
Wow. Okay. Villa, Rosie, um, this is Amy Potts.
And we met my first summer in Marshwood.
Oh, we were thick as thieves there for a while.
- Yeah. - Orson, too.
- Oh, and it's Sheriff Potts. - Mm-hmm.
Welcome to Marshwood, "The Nicest Place on Earth."
Oh, Tara's told me all about you two.
In all honesty, I can't wait to see you two in action.
Oh.
Wow. I-Is that what passes for evidence collection around here?
No. No, uh, that's banana cream pie.
Picked some up on my way over. It's delicious.
We're okay.
Did you investigate the crime scene?
Uh, yeah, it's, uh...
not officially a crime scene yet.
My gut's telling me that Orson's death wasn't an accident.
Based on my preliminary examination,
Orson was dead approximately
four to six hours prior to you finding him.
Right. But Orson was always careful...
you know, safety first, and last.
Flip his tractor? Makes no sense.
Why didn't you continue the investigation on your own?
I needed an M.E., and Marshwood doesn't have one.
But I remembered my old summer buddy
worked for the best pathologist in the state.
May I?
Oh, well...
did you take it apart?
Maybe he was low on brake fluid.
Oh, I-I haven't laid a hand on it,
you know, since we pulled Orson out.
I was waiting for you all to arrive.
Tara. You want to do your thing?
What thing?
You can take the girl out of the country,
but she'll never forget
how to massage her way around a John Deere.
- Rosie, you're not gonna join in on the fun? - No, I'm good.
Engine grease and silk blazers do not mix.
I'll stick to the topsoil.
I couldn't find anything wrong with the tires or the brake system.
Yeah, and aside from the oil being low,
the engine's working fine.
It really doesn't look like it's been tampered with.
I just can't believe Orson would be so reckless.
I don't believe he was reckless.
Minimal bruising on the body suggests that
he was not killed by the tractor rolling over.
And if he was trapped underneath it,
I would see dirt underneath his fingernails
or signs of struggle in the soil. I didn't.
So what killed him?
I don't know, I have to run some more tests,
but he was dead before he hit the ground.
Are you saying...
I'm sorry, but, yes.
There's a good chance that your friend was murdered.
Synced and corrected by Chitorafa www.addic7ed.com
So, we found a number of blowfly larvae in Orson's body.
They usually lay their eggs within minutes of death.
But these larvae...
have barely developed, given the state of decomposition.
And they feed off of dead tissue.
Something in the victim's body must have stunted their growth.
Hmm. To inhibit larval development that much, it must have been poison.
So Orson was poisoned, and that same poison
affected the larvae that fed on his corpse?
Bingo.
And to determine what poison, I am making a patented
Mitchie Mendelson maggot milkshake.
It's the best way to separate
the organic and inorganic matter.
Did you really have that patented?
I tried, but the patent office...
is super political.
Okay, so we know how Orson was murdered.
Hopefully, we'll find something inside this house that tells us why.
Thanks, guys.
So, we need to locate
anything that could have been used to poison Orson...
that's medicine, needles, inhalers, food, beverages.
This whole time, I was hoping I was wrong
about Orson being murdered.
I mean, Marshwood's the type of place
people leave their doors unlocked.
Worst crime we've had since I've been sheriff is when
Timmy Butler tried to rob the Shop-and-Feed with a garden hose.
Poisoning the mayor?
That's... big.
Look, there is some pretty personal stuff
in these trash bags...
photos, letters, journals.
I mean, I don't think the killer did this.
Well, maybe Orson had some secrets he didn't want public.
Maybe he was just spring cleaning.
Best way to welcome the future is to let go of the past.
She might be onto something.
I mean, this bag is labeled "trash."
Orson was purging.
Well, he wasn't throwing everything away.
These are all mine...
and, uh, they're labeled "to keep."
I don't know, it was just...
you know, two old friends catching up
over a Cracker Barrel Sunrise Sampler
and a short stack of pecan pancakes.
I mean, why did he keep all your stuff?
Do you think he still had feelings?
No. Our relationship wasn't really like that. I mean...
I left tons of stuff at his place over the years,
so maybe he was finally returning it?
_
I'll be right back.
Do you remember anything else
about your lunch with Orson?
Why are you rocking your interrogation face?
So, are you interrogating me right now?
No, no, there's no reverb in your voice,
there's no squeaking linoleum.
It doesn't sound like you're at a hospital to me.
I'm not a babysitter.
I'm a cop, Rosie.
And waiting at the hospital makes me anxious.
Plus, I had to pick up something at the station.
Yeah, did that "something" have 36 grams of fat
in a single serving?
You there, Rosie?
Earth to Rosie?
Yeah, no. No, I'm... I'm here.
No, no, he's not.
- Bye, Rosie. - Come on. Villa.
Now, don't tell me that you're mad
because I'm criticizing Hornstock's diet.
No, I'm mad because...
I know you care about Slade. Okay, we all do.
But you have a victim who is counting on you to solve his murder.
So I need you to stop stressing
and come with me to City Hall so we can check Orson's office.
Okay, but there's still evidence that needs to be collected.
Yeah, TMI and Sheriff Potts can handle that on their own.
But we still don't know where Orson was poisoned.
Maybe it was at his work. So let's go.
Okay, okay, okay. I'll go.
I'll go under one condition.
If it involves you calling Hornstock, then no.
I will go under the condition that you admit
that the reason why you're here
working on this case outside of your jurisdiction
is because you're avoiding your brother.
Seriously?
I already told you
that Marcos and I...
Are avoiding the subject.
Come on. You're avoiding Marcos.
Why don't you all take a load off.
This pie is fresh from the oven.
Mayor Delmar was the judge of our last bake sale.
Beverly here won.
What is it with all the baked goods?
Well, in most places,
baking is a nice thing to do for visitors.
You know, my mother, she always wanted to retire to a place like Marshwood.
You can tell the good ones...
not afraid to talk about their mamas.
We got you the minutes from our Town Council meetings.
You need anything else, you let us know.
Thank you.
Villa, check this out.
Condoms, testosterone gel, and body paint.
Not the usual supplies you pick up at Staples.
Tara?
There you are.
Do you remember when we took this photo?
The time I split my overalls?
How could I forget?
I forgot that.
Ohh.
I should have called more.
Nah. Would have made us miss you more.
That didn't help, did it?
I know, uh...
this certainly isn't the time, but, uh,
I don't think you're the only one Orson was missing.
Found these love letters in one of the trash bags.
I think Orson was having a secret relationship.
For love letters, these are tame.
"I'm the waves, you're the beach."
Yeah, well, Orson was always kind of a prude.
Took him a whole summer to hold my hand.
Well, he threw away every letter.
Whoever he was seeing, he wanted to keep their identity secret.
Maybe she was married?
Well, Marshwood's not the kind of place where you can keep a secret.
I tried once,
and then that Sunday, Pastor Frank gave a sermon
about skinny-dipping in Tucker Lake.
You can keep anything secret
if you lock your doors tight enough.
- We don't lo... - Lock doors in Marshwood, I know.
We found "performance enhancers" in Orson's desk.
Maybe there's a reason he was keeping it at work.
Of course I knew Orson.
Everyone knows the mayor.
Marshwood's only got a few hundred people, and...
we worked pretty closely,
me running the tourism board and all.
Oh. "Worked closely."
You know, in Miami,
- we call that "cheating." - Yeah.
I...really don't know what you're talking about.
No? Well, we actually found the letters that he wrote you.
"I'm the waves, you're the beach."
"Beach"..."Sandy." That's you.
Orson could never pass up a chance to tell a terrible joke.
How could you do that to Earl, huh?
Y'all been married for years.
Don't you know I'm eaten up inside about it?
But I loved Orson, truly.
He is...
...was my soul mate.
Your husband didn't suspect anything?
We kept it in the office.
I am not proud, but I finally told Earl the truth this morning.
I figured it would come out with all this mess.
The worst part is...
Earl was the one filling that testosterone prescription
so Orson could...
perform.
Your husband was Orson's pharmacist?
Him and all Marshwood.
Testosterone gel can cause heart attacks in men.
So if her husband
was intentionally giving Orson the wrong dosage,
that's murder.
Is that night-blooming jasmine?
I swear, you must be part bloodhound.
Get down!
Earl! Drop the damn shotgun!
You're trespassing!
Get gone!
Does he always roll out the welcome mat like this?
Earl's got a bit of a temper,
especially when he's been drinking.
This is between me and my wife!
I think I should run left, draw fire away from the GTO.
Are you really thinking about your car right now?
The buckshot might do a little damage to me,
- but it would end the Yellow Queen. - Whatever, just...
keep him talking.
What? Hey! Villa!
Villa, the bad guy's that way!
Earl!
TMI, TMI, get down!
It's Tara Izikoff.
I don't know if you remember me.
Yeah, yeah, you...
You're the skinny-dipper.
Okay... well, yeah.
But also, um...
you, uh, you knew my friend Orson, your mayor.
He remembered every moment that we spent together,
like when I cut my finger picking raspberries,
that time we almost drowned in the lake,
and, um, kissing...
in the back of the movie theater.
That's the man that you killed.
I didn't kill anybody.
We'll be the judge of that.
Drop the weapon.
Oh, I love a town where nobody locks their doors.
I want the lawyer.
Jeff Groves.
You met him at City Hall.
He's the only lawyer in town.
Look, I hate to be rude, Earl,
but you really need to start talking.
We know you killed Orson. He was sleeping with your wife.
You were his pharmacist.
You were mixing a higher dosage of testosterone
- than was prescribed. - The overdose stopped his heart.
Look, i-if I wanted to kill the mayor, I'd have shot him.
It's much easier.
Yeah, like you tried to shoot us?
I-If I wanted to hit you, y-you'd be dead right now.
I just found out about Sandy and Orson this morning.
I'd been drinking, I was angry.
What do you got for me?
We examined Orson's heart and we tested his blood.
It's impossible to tell for sure,
but there doesn't appear to be
any evidence of a heart attack.
And I ran the chemicals in the testosterone gel you found.
None were present in the larvae.
So the gel isn't the cause of death.
Earl didn't kill Orson.
Yeah, I told you.
Now, can you open the door, please?
You shot at cops. That door is staying locked.
What she said.
We're transferring you to County.
We need to look for a different toxin,
but I need results in hours, not days.
I already eliminated all the usual suspects
with a prelim tox screen.
I-I'm at a loss for what to do next.
I'm not.
But you're not gonna like it.
Hey!
- Welcome to my old hang... - Oh.
- Brother right there. Mm-hmm. - Oh. Sorry.
Weren't sure where we were on the public intimacy scale.
So...
Oh. This is nice.
It's like a postcard out here.
Maybe getting outside the city isn't so bad
Oh, says the sister who vetoed
every Rosewood family camping trip since... forever.
Oh, man! Did I miss driving that hoss on the open road.
She handles... about like you'd expect.
- Did you bring Orson's body? - Uh, as per requested,
yeah, in case we need to run any additional tests.
So, where do we set up shop?
This is... different.
A veterinary clinic?
Well, unfortunately,
this is the best we have to offer.
Coroner's office closed last year,
and the nearest hospital is five towns over.
But this should have most of what you need.
And Blue Thunder will give us the rest.
- Thank you. - Why did the coroner's office close?
People stopped dying?
Uh... Dr. Mac retired.
And, uh... w-we weren't in need of a replacement until
this awful business with Orson, so, uh...
Well, I'll be in my office if you need anything.
I didn't want to freak you out with a big hug,
but, um... it's awfully good to meet you, Pippy.
Thanks for taking care of Tara for us.
Okay, let's scrub this place down and get to work.
Are we sure this is the best option?
Pets can lower human stress levels
better than some prescription meds.
You know, my owl, Charlie,
oversaw all my early cases.
That is... until he mistook a gallbladder for a mouse.
Which was an honest mistake.
What's the game plan?
'Cause we're back to no motive, no suspect,
and every single poison that we've tested for has come back negative.
I'm good.
- We're gonna be good. - Yes, we are.
Because we know where Orson died...
a small, isolated town, not many resources...
that limits the killer's options.
So you want to do a reverse diagnosis.
Exactly. Based on the region, the season, and the known symptoms,
we can narrow down all the possible poisons
the killer could have used.
On it.
Okay, okay, Hornstock. Look, I get it, I get it.
No call, no change.
But, uh, give me a ring when you can.
Hornstock! Rosie. Hey.
It was a test. You passed.
Congrats, congrats.
But, uh, give me... give me a ring.
Ohh.
Rosie.
What are you doing out here?
The Town Council generously gave us all of their files,
and we maybe also had some ice cream sundaes.
TMI was right.
Sweetie's is the best.
Digitalis. It's digitalis.
Yeah. Digitalis... It's also known as foxglov
And it's one of five poisonous flowers
currently in bloom in the area.
Yes, it contains a naturally occurring poison,
which is known as digitoxin.
Yes, and we found 4 milligrams per liter of digitoxin in his blood.
So that is what killed Orson.
Now, given that Orson was acting normally
in the hours leading up to his death,
it's likely that the killer administered
one milligram of poison per hour for four hours.
Well, once we have a suspect,
then we'll be able to test for traces.
This town isn't too big.
Might as well test everyone, right?
Y-You can make that happen?
This isn't going to hurt, right?
Um, no. I'm just gonna swab the inside of your check.
Do you want to open?
And that's it.
I don't mean to speak out of line,
but I think Orson was talking about you the other day...
after your lunch.
- It's Tara, right? - Yeah.
The way he talked about you...
it made me happy to see him so happy.
I'm sorry if that's weird or...
No, no. It's very sweet, yeah.
He was proud of you.
Orson didn't have much of a family,
and he mentioned yours wasn't the most supportive.
Guessing that's why you two were so close.
Anyway, I...
just thought you should know.
Thank you.
Yeah.
Guys?
Guys, sorry to interrupt.
You need to see this.
I tested 80% of the samples we've taken, right?
And 100% of them tested positive for digitalis.
Right, so either someone in Marshwood poisoned everyone
or everyone in Marshwood poisoned... Orson.
It's Hornstock.
He said he would call if there were any changes.
Yeah.
Wait. Slow down, slow down. What happened?
I mean, I was only gone an hour or two.
He was doing fine when I left.
What did the doctors say?
Hornstock.
Is he gonna make it?
- So, that was... - Hornstock.
And Slade?
The infection he had turned septic.
So far, his immune system is not responding
to any of the antibiotics his doctors have administered,
so, until they find the right combination, it's not great.
- Where are you going? - To get the GTO.
I dragged you here, I'm gonna drag you back.
Hey, is everything okay?
Actually...
no.
Um, I'm sorry.
We were just... Staying right here.
If I'm gonna trust Slade's doctors not to give up on him,
I am not gonna give up on Orson.
So, so far...
every single citizen of Marshwood
has tested positive for digitalis.
We need to narrow the suspect pool.
Too bad, 'cause I just widened it.
You can add one of your own to the list of suspects.
What? Who?
Me.
I thought I'd run my own test, see what turned up.
It was positive.
Okay, well, that doesn't make any sense.
Let me guess.
It does to you.
It does to me.
Okay, well, now we know how everyone in town
was exposed to the same poison that killed Orson.
The air must be filled with digitalis pollen.
It's harmless, but I think it contaminated the samples.
With this much in bloom, all of Marshwood
had the opportunity to poison Orson.
Well, now we need to look at motive.
Wow.
Sorry, I can't resist the salaciousness
of small-town squabbles.
Sorry, squabbles?
Not... that's not in Marshwood.
Au contraire.
According to the transcripts,
the Marshwood Town Council meetings had it all...
innuendo, thinly veiled threats...
emphasis on "thin"... and judgment.
Oh, the judgment.
Guess Marshwood's not as picture-perfect as we thought.
I would like to direct your attention to page 136,
wherein Jeff Groves,
Marshwood's only attorney and Town Council treasurer,
suggests that somebody
was stealing money from the town coffers.
You mean like embezzlement?
I mean like embezzlement.
And Mr. Groves thinks that the guilty party was...
...Orson.
Okay, well, the Orson I knew
would never have done something like that, so...
Tee, sometimes we don't know people as well as we think.
We need to talk to Mr. Groves.
Mm-hmm.
What's going on with you?
Besides my first boyfriend being murdered
and accused of stealing and...
Yeah, besides that.
Okay, when I had lunch with Orson,
I might have given him some advice.
'Cause I knew him, Pipp, and I could tell that he was unhappy.
And he admitted to being stressed
and that he needed to get rid of stuff in his life
that wasn't making him happy,
and so I might've said...
"Do whatever it takes to make yourself happy."
And now I'm afraid that the stress was financial,
and that "Do whatever it takes to make you happy" was embezzlement.
So what if I caused him to do something that got him killed?
Okay.
Say your advice caused Orson to come back here
and to steal that money.
Say he pissed someone off about it,
and they killed him.
Oh, my God.
- Ohhhhh! - Okay, breathe.
You can't be guilty of someone else's mistake.
So...
let's get out there and find
who really killed your friend.
Freshly squeezed lemonade.
Are you sure you don't want some?
I make the finest in town.
Actually, yes, we would really like some.
Never take a beverage from a man with a spittoon.
- First of all, I own a spittoon. - No, you don't.
You're right, I don't, but you're still judging him unfairly for a spittoon.
- Stop saying "spittoon." - Okay. Spittoon.
Uh, that spittoon
belonged to my great-grandfather...
a general in the Confederate Army.
Okay, not so unfairly.
Oh, thank you.
I keep it around to remind myself
never to turn out like him.
Marshwood might appear to be stuck in the past,
but we welcome the progress the present brings.
Well, speaking of Marshwood, we actually uncovered some evidence
that the town isn't doing that well financially.
Couldn't be further from the truth.
Oh, cut the BS.
Our associate read the Town Council meeting minutes.
You accused Orson of embezzling money
from the Marshwood treasury.
I, uh...
didn't mean to accuse Orson so publicly.
But...
we're desperate.
Marshwood's had to cut funding to schools,
fire the police force.
If we don't merge with the next town over,
there's gonna be a lot of people here
with no way to support their family.
Which would give a lot of people here reason to want Orson dead.
So, where was the money he stole going?
Wait, you're the only lawyer in town.
Did you draw up Orson's will?
- I did. - You mind grabbing that for us?
Sure.
If my boyfriend wanted to impress me,
one pair of diamond earrings would do.
You have five.
And, uh, the couture to match.
You know, it's funny.
I almost wore this to work today.
What a coincidence. Me too.
Did Orson buy you all this stuff, Sandy?
Maybe with the money that he was stealing from the town?
No. Orson wasn't a thief.
We have a witness who says otherwise.
Who? Jeff Groves?
Nasty... nitwit.
So can you explain where you got all this high-end merchandise?
Yeah, it's my side business.
I buy in bulk and sell it all on eBay.
The margins are... pretty good,
but, honestly, it keeps me so busy,
it feels like having a full-time job.
Mm.
Sandy, where did you get this cup?
That was Orson's flavor cup.
- Made everything taste like oranges. - Because he hated the taste of water.
He carried that cup with him everywhere.
He wouldn't just leave it behind.
Maybe he left it to you in the will,
like he did everything else.
What are you talking about?
You're the sole beneficiary for Orson's estate.
Which gives you motive.
See the powder residue around the rim?
I believe it's digitalis.
This cup is our murder weapon,
and it was on your drying rack.
Which you tried to wipe clean.
We knew you had the motive to want Orson dead.
Now we know you had the means, too.
But I was with Earl all day. He'll tell you.
I'm sure the husband you cheated on
will do everything he can to back you up.
Your town, your collar.
Sandy Langford,
you're under arrest for the murder of Orson Delmar.
Well, Sandy's been booked.
Back to Slade and Marcos...
real-life stuff.
Rosie! We need you... now!
What?
Come here. Come here.
She just collapsed.
What happened?
Rosie, what's going on?
Her heart just stopped.
Let me help you!
Rosie, you're not supposed to lift anything over 50 pounds.
If I hadn't, she'd be dead already.
- What is it? - Cardiac arrest from the digitalis poisoning.
- Villa, grab that stand. - Should I call an ambulance?
No. The nearest hospital is over an hour away.
If we're gonna save her, we need to do it right here.
- I'll prep an epi injection. - Hurry up.
Come on! Let's go, Mitchie!
Yeah, yeah, I got it. Here you go.
One, two, three,
four, five...
- Anything? - Not yet.
- Should I get the AutoPulse? - Too late for that.
Again!
One, two, three,
four, five...
Come on, baby girl. Please.
- Come on, now. - Come on, come on, come on.
Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.
- Okay. Easy. - All right.
It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay.
We just need to administer the antidote.
- Prep the DigiFab. - Okay.
What just happened?
The person who killed Orson,
they just tried to kill you, too.
Thanks.
Earl corroborated Sandy's alibi.
Said she was with him the day Orson died.
Well, that coupled with the poison,
I'm gonna guess we're taking Sandy off the suspects list.
Hey, guys.
Hey, Mitchie. Sorry, now is not the time for an expense report.
Yeah, good one. That's a good zinger, boss.
No, but these are not my expenses.
They're the city of Marshwood's.
Are they as riveting as the Town Council minutes?
More so. And, you know, when I see all these numbers,
I can't help but perform my specialty.
- Owl taming? - Autopsies?
Forensic accounting.
You know, even messy divorces have their silver linings.
What do the numbers tell you?
That Jeff Groves was telling the truth.
Marshwood was in trouble,
but Orson wasn't stealing funds from the town.
He was depositing his own money
into the city treasury to try and save it.
So if Orson wasn't embezzling the money, then who was?
The same person who wanted Sandy dead.
You were right.
Orson wasn't the one stealing from the town.
And we think you know who did.
And we also think that they tried to poison you
to protect their secret.
Marshwood's a small place, and you're all close here.
But if you could tell us who...
It was Jeff Groves.
The attorney?
Orson covered for him.
I did, too.
Because he knew you and Orson were having an affair, didn't he?
Jeff said he would tell my husband
if we turned him in.
I should have told you sooner.
Earl knows now, but Jeff has pictures...
of me and Orson doing...
We know. We're good.
And there were costumes involved.
And we'd gotten really creative with the body paints.
No, we're... we're so good.
If we told the truth from the beginning...
Orson would still be alive.
Or Jeff would have killed you both for revenge.
All I'm saying is we do the best we can
with the information we have in the present.
I think it's time we go talk to Jeff.
No sign of Groves inside.
Yeah, nothing to give us probable cause to search his home.
Yeah, except for the digitalis
growing in his front yard.
Rosie. Stand back.
Rosie, where are you going?
- Stand back! - Shh! This is back.
Over-packing for a getaway?
That's a first for me.
You got to be prepared for anything,
especially when you're on the run.
I'm willing to cooperate.
You tried to skip the town you were embezzling from.
And that means we're way past cooperation, Jeff.
And you were blackmailing Orson and Sandy Langford
so they wouldn't come clean about your stealing.
It's called mutually assured destruction.
It's a tactic.
Like... I scratch your back, you scratch mine.
I've got my own back, thank you.
I kept quiet about their affair,
they kept quiet about the stealing.
Everyone was happy.
Yeah, till one ended up dead and the other one almost dead.
Orson and Sandy were honoring their promise to me,
which means I had no motivation to kill either of them.
See, now would be the time that I would ask for a lawyer...
if I hadn't already gotten
the state's ninth-highest score on the bar exam,
so, if you have no further questions...
We tested the cup that you found at Sandy's house.
It totally is the murder weapon.
Yeah, the digitalis was concentrated
in between the inner and outer layers.
And while the killer thought to wipe
their prints off the outer layer...
They forgot to do the same on the inner.
So you have the killer's partial print.
We do. Just call us the Matlocks of Marshwood.
Do we have enough to hold Jeff?
No, because he didn't do it.
I appreciate everything you've done, but really,
I feel right as rain now.
Well, I know you may feel fine,
but your bloodwork indicated a larger dose of digitalis
than we anticipated,
so you mind getting up here for a second, please?
It actually was 8 milligrams per liter
over a one-hour time period,
and that's not good at all.
I'm not sure I understand.
A large dose that concentrated over such a short period of time
can lead to internal bleeding, among other things.
So, you mind laying down, please?
I'm afraid I have to give you an ultrasound
just to make sure that it's not too late.
Too late for what?
To prevent organ failure.
Let's see, here.
Oh.
What's wrong? Do you see something?
I do.
It's something I've never seen before.
What? What is it?
I'm actually not sure.
Now, this could be a tumor,
but given the size, I'd give you...
25 to life.
Don't worry. It's not a tumor.
It's a large dose of digitalis
that you ingested in order to poison yourself.
I didn't catch it in Orson's body because you administered it
in small doses over a long period of time.
But this... this right here, you were desperate.
Ohh. I guess we got too close for comfort,
so you had to throw us off the scent.
What?
Me?
Well, you must just be...
nuttier than a pecan pie, you know that?
You sure? You're the one that's throwing down the death stare.
Because it's her fault!
Before he saw you two weeks ago,
Orson and I had a plan.
I was gonna leave Earl. We were gonna be together.
I...finally got what I wanted.
Orson.
And I wasn't gonna let you take him from me.
We had lunch.
N-Nothing happened.
Then why did he come back saying he was sick of being an adulterer
and he needed to get rid of everything in his life
not making him happy,
and that included me?
I'll tell you why... because even if nothing happened
at that lunch, seeing you made him think
he and I weren't meant to be together.
All right, last time I checked, Sandy,
your boyfriend breaking up with you
isn't an excuse to kill him.
He was gonna throw away everything we had...
because of whatever she said to him.
Don't blame her. It's on you.
Oh. Uh...
Geez, Potts, you don't need my permission.
This is your town.
Right. I keep forgetting.
Sandy Langford, you're under arrest.
Again.
How you holding up?
I'm not great.
Awful.
You know, feeling like I got my friend... killed.
And... tired, I guess,
and hungry,
and... feeling guilty that I feel hungry.
'Cause, apparently, I'm the reason Sandy killed Orson.
Oh, no. No, you shouldn't feel guilty.
As a matter of fact, you're the reason that he realized that he deserved better.
Yeah, but I could have come back more.
And I could've probably seen that something was off before.
You were gone.
You moved on, and if you hadn't moved on,
then you would never have joined the FBI,
you'd have never met Pipp, and...
most importantly, you would have never been working for me.
And you wouldn't want that, though, right?
No.
Good.
In that case, I'll see you back in Miami.
Okay.
Wait! I totally rode here with you!
Oh, yeah.
Hey.
Need a ride?
I guess. Your brother just... pep 'n' ditched.
All right, well...
did the pep part work?
Sort of.
But he doesn't really know the whole story about Orson.
Well, what didn't you tell him?
About a promise that I made to Orson.
About Marshwood?
About being true to myself.
You know... about you.
About me and you.
You want to tell me?
I do.
Well, get in.
So, you ready to go back...
to whatever's waiting for us in Miami?
Are you?
You know, I wasn't straight with you...
about my brother.
Truth is, he's not driving me crazy.
He's not...
well, anything.
He sits on my couch all day,
playing video games, in the dark.
He doesn't eat, doesn't sleep.
And anytime I try to say something,
it just makes it worse.
I'm afraid one day, I'll come home, and he'll be...
Have you told him that last part?
I can't.
Because... I'm afraid if I do,
he'll just... run away again.
Listen, Marcos has to get his head on straight.
And you can't do that for him.
But what you should know is, it's not your fault.
I know.
So...
when are you gonna realize
that whatever happens to Slade isn't yours?
Hey, hey. Remember what I told you.
Whatever he's about to tell you, it is not your fault.
Hornstock, what's going on?
He's gonna be okay.
Ohh!
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